I Promise
by DaynaJD
Summary: Blank is not who Zidane thinks he is. Will Zidane keep Blank's big secret, or will Blank be forced to wander through life friendless, homeless, and on the run forever? Complete
1. Who is Blank?

Blank: Chapter One  
By Ddoskocil  
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I look at my reflection. It doesn't look like me. I look like a man; the man others know only as "Blank." I sigh as I slump down against the wall. It has been this way for seven years. Every day I look in the mirror, but nothing has changed. Every day for seven years all I've seen is Blank. I have not always been Blank, though. It has been too long since I have seen that person.

"Yo, Blank! Ya ready yet?" a voice calls from the hall outside my room, startling me from my thoughts. The door starts to open, but I leap at it before it can be fully opened, slamming it back in my friend's face. I push hard against it and flip the lock into place. There is banging as the guy tries to get in.

"Blank? What's going on? Are ya ready or not?" he asks, still banging on the door. I sigh and lean against it.

"I'm not dressed yet." It's not really a lie. I did have to bind myself. Thank God it never took long; small was good.

"Um...does it really matter? I mean, we're both guys." I smile at that remark. It's an argument that we have been through many times.

"I know you just want to see me naked, Zidane," I chuckle. "Why not admit it?" I chuckle again at the shocked silence.

"I knew it."

"Hey! That's not funny, Blank. I'll see ya in a couple of minutes, all right?"

"Yeah," I comment as I hear him walk away. I sigh. If you only knew. Would you be so unwanting?

I shake my head. It's no use to dwell on it. He won't find out. I am determined that no one on this ship will find out. Last time that happened...no, I will not think about that. That will never happen to me again.

"Blank!" I hear Zidane outside my room again. "We're waiting on you. God, you take forever to get ready. Hurry up."

I grab a shirt off of the back of a chair and throw it over my wrapped chest. Then I open the down and lean against the frame. I try to hide my smile as Zidane losses his balance and falls into my room. No need for thoughts like that, no matter how nice they are.

Instead of doing what I wish I could, I merely laugh at Zidane and give him a hand up. "You klutz," I comment. As he regains his footing, I ask, "So, what's so important that I was hurried by you twice to get up?"

"Long night?" Zidane asks, his hidden intentions clear to me. I sigh slightly. It's a morning ritual that we have been through since we met. He asks me about my long night, I never answer, and he thinks what he wants to think. The fact that he has never seen me with a woman does not seem to cross his mind.

"You didn't answer my question," I say instead as he leads me down the hall. He sighs and stops at the door of our boss's room.

"He wants to rehearse early today. There's some kind of ball after the show and the cast is invited. We're supposed to go shopping for new outfits. The others already went so it's just you and me."

"Great," I say in mock frustration, "I get to go with the fashion challenged one." Zidane gives me a false expression of hurt, but there is a smile hidden behind it. He drapes an arm around my shoulder.

"Are you saying that your best friend doesn't' have any fashion sense?"

I nod and shrug his arm off. "That's what I'm saying." His jaw drops as I open the door and walk into our boss's room. "Ya coming?" I say back into the hall. He closes his jaw and joins me.

"Can you believe this guy thinks that I, Zidane, have no sense of fashion?" he asks as he comes into the medium sized room.

"Yeah."

"Uh huh."

"I believe it."

"Stuff it," the boss bellows. "We've a rehearsal to do."

We walk together down the street toward the fine clothing store. I can tell that Zidane will try to prove me wrong. He believes whole-heartedly that he can pick out the perfect outfit for me. I don't doubt him. But it won't be my perfect outfit. It will be Blank's perfect outfit, a man's perfect outfit. I know my secret weights on my heart and I can feel it in my spirit. Maybe I've been hiding for too long. I sigh heavily. My thoughts have dwelled on that subject of late, but I feel helpless to change

"What's up, Blank?" he asks, worry in his voice. He thinks it has to do with rehearsal. I didn't do well.

"Yeah, well, I just can't get that one scene down. It's upsetting." It's not quite a lie. I haven't gotten it down yet, but I will for tonight. I'm not that upset about it, but I cannot bear to tell Zidane the truth.

I'm just tired of hiding what I really am. I've known him for three years and he still doesn't know, he can't know. It's a secret I've hide for longer than three years and I intend to keep it for much longer.

Being male is much easier than being female. But I do miss the dresses and the make up and the long hair. I absently touch my butchered hair than tug at my ear. I really miss earrings, the ones that dangle and sparkle in the light.

"Blank!" I stop and turn around. Zidane is standing at the door of the men's fine clothing shop. Without knowing it, I had walked past him and was now standing down the street at the jewelers. I turn back to the window display case and notice a pair of dangle sapphire earrings.

"What are you looking at?" he asks as he comes up behind me.

"Oh...um...I was just thinking that my mother had a pair of earring's just like this. It just reminded me of her," I lie. "Sorry. Let's go pick out a outfit." I turn away and walk back toward the clothing shop. Zidane looks at the earrings for a few more seconds than follows me back. He knows I'm not being entirely truthful, but he won't press it.

He learned long ago that I won't be pressed.

We enter the shop. Zidane talks to the shopkeeper for a few minutes while I look around. There is nothing in here that interests me. When Zidane walks up to me, I whisper that to him. He sighs.

"You never see anything you like," he complains. I shrug. He's right. I still don't like men's formal clothing. They just don't fit right.

"Thanks, Zidane, but I think I'll just stay home tonight. I don't feel like going to a ball after I've been up on stage all night. Besides, you know I'm not very social. You go without me," I say as I walk out of the store. Zidane follows me out at a run. I can see the confusion written across his face.

"Why are you really not going?" he asks accusingly. I don't stop walking so he is forced to keep up.

"I just don't. I want to stay in."

"You always stay in," he pouts. "I always tell these girls that you'll be there and then you don't show up."

"Simple solution to that. Don't tell them I'm coming." Zidane stops and looks at me as I walk away. I can feel his stare on my back, and it's hard not to look at him. I can hear his footsteps as he starts to follow me, then they stop and continue in the other way, back into the store perhaps.

I head back toward the airship I have called home for the last three years, my mind whirling in a state of confusion. Never before have I felt this way. I have been living life as a man since I was barely a woman. It was the only option open to me, and I have never looked back...until Zidane.

I never regretted my decision to bid my chest and cut my hair and put away all things girly. All of the sudden, I do. I know why: Zidane. He is the only man who has ever cared about me, the only man who treated me with respect. But he does not really know who I am no matter how much I wish I could tell him, show him, just who his best friend really is.

My steps slow. Why can't I show Zidane who I really am? As a plan begins to take form, I sprint the last few blocks to the airship. I ignore the stares and comments of my fellow actors and slam the door to my room, locking the door behind me. I look around the room and spot the trunk in the corner hidden under some blankets and costumes. I toss the stuff aside and throw open the lid of the trunk. I quickly remove all of the clothing and mementos from my life of Blank from the trunk. On the bottom is the only thing I ever kept from my past life.

disclaimer at the end of chapter 3


	2. Meeting Nekel

Blank: Chapter Two  
By Ddoskocil 

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I slip out of my room, a large blue duffel bag in my hand. I turn the corner just in time. Three steps down the corridor and I can hear Zidane pounding on my door, yelling at me to get dressed so we can go to the party. I quicken my steps and manage to leave the ship without anyone catching me. The easy part is over with.

I take a round-a-about way to the palace, walking through the alleyways and back streets. It's longer to walk this way, but it was a sure way that Zidane or any of my other shipmates would not see me.

I enter through the servants' door of the palace and try to move unnoticed through the outer corridors. For all my efforts, only a few palace guards and the servants working the party seem to notice me, though. They nod as I walk by, recognizing me as one of the actors from the play.

"Excuse me," I say as I approach one. "I need to change into more...formal clothing. Is there a place I can do that?" He nods and points to a hallway.

"Down the hall. There's an unused bedroom. You can change in there." I thank him and go down the hall. I find the bedroom, and it is unused, as promised. I sigh, relieved, as I close the door behind me.

The room is beautifly furnished. There is a dresser, a vanity table, a bed, and a couple of chairs. Everything is dark: the wood mahogany and the fabric crimson. The curtains that frame the single window are white, as well as the fringe on the bed canopy. It is the perfect guestroom for someone not overly important, just important enough to be staying at the palace.

I put down the duffel bag on the bed and open it. I carefully remove a dark green dress, matching shoes, female under clothes, and jewelry to match the rest of my outfit. They are the only things left from the life I left behind, bought for me by mother with the last of her money. She wanted me to wear them to find a nice rich man. I've only worn them once, and I swore I would never dress up for rich men again.

I also pull out a blonde wig that is already done in an elaborate style that I bought earlier. With haste, I remove my normal clothing and stuff them into the bag. I unwrap myself and stuff the wrapping into the bag as well. Free of my old clothing, I feel clean, fresh and oddly liberated. My body, shaved for the first time in years, is cool in the night breeze that whispers through the room.

With less haste, I dress in the underclothes than pull the dress over them, zipping it up the back. I place the teardrop emerald and gold earrings in holes too long gone unused. It hurts for only a second or two as the skin breaks. I slip the necklace, also emerald and gold, over my head and let the thin gold wire settle around my neck with the emeralds dangling down to my collarbone. The final touch is the wig, three-braid style with with little green flowers all in it. I place it over my natural hair and secure it into place.

Done, I look in the mirror and smile. I look almost like I did nine and a half years ago when I first decided to change my identity. It feels so good. I haven't worn a dress in all that time. I thought I would never want to againI was wrong. But a sadness also hangs over my head. I made myself a promise when I concocted this crazy plan: after tonight, I will put this dress away forever and live as Blank. I try to push that sadness out of my mind. There is no place for it tonight.

The fabric feels like silk against my skin. The outer layer of the dress is velvet, soft and fine. It fits to my form perfectly, a form I didn't even know I had. My womanly body was just barely taking form when I began dressing like a man.

The only thing I'm missing is make-up, but I don't know how to apply it. I don't even know where to get any. I'm sure one of the woman at the party will help me though. I just have to have the right story.

With one last look at the mirror I sling the bag over my shoulder and leave the room. The guard who pointed me to the room doesn't even notice that I'm the same person as before as I walk past. He just raises an eyebrow my way, an interested look on his face. I smile back as I walk by.

I slow my steps as I near the ballroom. I can hear Zidane inside. He must be near the door. I take a deep breath. My heart feels like it will rip out of my chest, it's pounding so hard. I have to wonder if he will even recognize me like this. It has been such a long time.

A few people pass me, staring at me. They are probably wondering what I am doing standing out here. I take a second deep breath to steady myself and follow them in. One of the women stops me.

"Dear, what are you doing here, without a drop of make-up?" she asks. I sigh; my story is already made up.

"The ship I was on grounded. I could only grab one bag before I was forced to flee the ship before it sank. This dress and jewelry was in the bag I grabbed. My make-up was not," I say, trying to sound sad and pitiful, like I am wounded and not whole without it.

The woman frowns and tilts her head to one side. "I think I have something that will go with your wardrobe and complexion in my bag. Come with me." I nod and follow her down the hall into another guestroom. It is like the one I changed in, yet this one with oak and yellows and tans.

She quickly applies eye shadow and blush and other make-ups that I don't recognize. When she is done, she steps back and takes a look at her work. She tilts her head from side to side, trying to figure something out. "Ah," she exclaims after a few moments and reaches back into her bag. She searches for a second or two than produces a tube of what looks like lipstick.

"There," she says after applying to color to my lips. She leads me to the mirror where I see a completely different person looking back. This person is a beautiful young woman with full, lightly pink lips and a hint of blue in the eye shadow that brings out my eyes.

I stand there, stunned, until the woman taps my shoulder. "Shall we go?" she asks. I nod, unable to speak at the moment, and follow her back to the ballroom entrance.

There is a guard at the door. He asks her name.

"Countess Maria Je'Laquetta," she replies. For a second time this woman stuns me. A Countess did my make-up.

"Countess," I say, "I am sorry to have troubled you, but thank for helping me. I shall be on my way now." I start to leave when she grabs my arm.

"Nonsense," she replies with a perky tone, "it was no trouble at all. What is your name, dear, so we can have you properly announced?'

I think for a moment, trying to remember what my mother called me. "Nekel," I finally answer. "Nekel Zengald." She nods and relays it to the guard.

"Presenting the Countess Maria Je'Laquetta and Lady Nekel Zengald," he shouts as we enter the ballroom. A few people look up at the Countess. I pick Zidane out. He is looking my way. I panic for an instant before memory catches up with the rest of my brain. Zidane met Nekel when I was with that horrid man. Zidane was just a servant boy then, but he saw what that man was doing to me and he saved me. I smile softly at the memory.

Zidane put me on a boat headed far away. He told me he would find me some day, but a few years passed and I never heard from him. But the Count who called me "wife" started searching for me and posted such a huge reward for me that I had to hide. First there was Andy, a female who worked in a sweatshop. I was found out and almost turned it. Then Nick, but he had to be killed because the law caught me selling stolen goods. Then Blank, who found Zidane...even if he never recognized me.

I push that out of my mind. Tonight I am Nekel again. I want to enjoy it. So I let the Countess take me from social group from social group, talking about society, the economy, and tonight's play.

After two hours, I excuse myself from the Countess's company, telling them I would like to find a young man to dance with. The other women, all older, smile and nod and tell me how to go about getting a man to ask me. I thank them and head for the refreshment table. I have not had a thing to drink in several hours.

As I sip the punch, I hear someone coming up behind me. I don't turn. Whoever it is, I'm not interesting in what they have to say.

"I hoped I'd see you again," I hear Zidane say. I stop mid-sip and slowly turn to face him. He looks hansom in his formal blue and white clothing. I can't take me eyes off of him.

"I'm sorry," he says, mistaking my stare of awe with one of confusing. "I'm Zidane. We met some time ago, eleven years I believe it is now. Remember? I was the boy who helped you escape that...terrible place."

"Zidane," I am now able to respond. "Of course I remember you. I'm sorry, I was just so stunned to see after so many years. I was certain I would never see you again. When I got off the boat, I swore I would find you again. I searched for years but never did. Now, here you are," I blurt out, not knowing where all this is coming from. I guess it's the way I have felt. Nekel never found Zidane, but Blank did.

"I'm so glad to see that you are all right. I was worried that the Count would look for you and force you to come back. Aren't you scared to be here now, where he might find you?"

Truth be told, I had not figured that into my plans. "I'm not worried. It has been so long I'm sure he has forgotten me and taken a new young bride," I reply.

I suddenly find myself in his arms. My thoughts rush from my head as he embraces me. It is the closest I have ever been to Zidane. He does not embrace Blank; he just gives him brotherly pats on the back.

He smiles at me after releasing me. It's a smile I return full force. He extends his hand. I look at it, hesitating for a moment too long.

"I thought you might like to dance," he says sadly, shaking his head. "But if you're here with someone else..."

"Oh no, I'm by myself." I extend my hand to him. "And I would love a dance." His head perks up and he leads out on to the dance floor.

It feels like a dream. He is holding me so close, his arms around me like he never wants to let me go. He smells of must and dirt and fresh cookies. I just breathe it in, memorizing the fragrance. I sigh as I lean my head against his shoulder and he holds me closer. I can't see anyone else. We are the only two people in the universe, the only two people dancing on the clouds of love.

The night ends too soon. As the last song ends, Zidane reluctantly lets me go. He looks into my eyes; his blue ones sparkling in the dimming light as the party comes to an end. He slowly leans toward me, his eyes slipping close. I follow his lead, letting my eyes flutter shut. Our lips meet for a moment and time freezes. His lips are warm and gentle. The only thing I can feel is his lips.

Then it is over.

"Will I see you again?" he asks

"I..." I do not know what to say. I made a promise to myself, but now... "Zidane, I don't know..." He kisses me passionately, holding me close to him as he does. It ends all too soon.

"Please, I want to see you again. I have to leave tomorrow, but I'll come back. I'll find you if you wait." Then he leaves. I stand dumbfounded for several long minutes, still feeling his lips linger on mine before I realize that I too must be headed home, and I must get there before Zidane and the other guys.

With haste I find my bag and make a dash for the street. I see Zidane and the guys waiting in line for a cab. Before he can see me, I run up the street in the direction of the airship. I am sure I can make it there before they do.

I lock the door to my room just as I hear the door to the main room slam open.

"Blank, you here?" I hear Zidane yell.

"Yea," I call as I unzip the dress and pull it off. I hear him try to open the door. Thank the Gods for small favors, I think as I strip myself of the underclothing and find my bandages to wrap my breasts.

"Blank, why did you lock the door? Open up, I want to tell you about my night." He sounds frustrated.

"Can't it wait till morning?" I call just before I tip while attempting to take off my heels. I tumble to the floor in a heap of shoes, underclothing, bandaging, and the bag.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yea, just fell out of bed. Can you come back in the morning, Zidane? I'm kinda tired and want to sleep. Thanks," I say. I hear Zidane curse for a moment before he replies with an angry "Whatever."

I sink to the floor as he walks away and I hear the door to his room slam. What a relief. That would have been very bad if he had walked in here while I was changing out of the dress. I thank the Gods again for the fact that I got one of the two rooms with a lock on it.

More slowly now, I change out of my party clothes and into my normal outfit. I carefully put everything away in a false bottom to the trunk at the foot of my bed then wash the make-up off my face.

I look in the mirror when I'm done. "Well, Blank is back," I comment to myself, disappointment creeping into my voice. I sigh and rest my head in my hands. "How will I face Zidane tomorrow when he tells me all about his night with me? What can I do?"

disclaimer at the end of chapter 3 


	3. Secret

Blank: Chapter Three  
By Ddoskocil 

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"Blank! Get up!" The pounding begins. I moan, roll over, and pull the blanket over my head. The pounding doesn't stop. It only gets louder and more insistent.

"Go away, Zidane," I mumble out barely loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't stop banging on my locked door.

"Open up, Blank! I've gotta talk to you."

I sit up, letting the blanket pile around my hips. "Is this important Zidane? What time is it?"

"Six," he answers more quite.

"At night!" I scream as I jump out of bed, rushing to dress.

"In the morning," he answers, again in that quick, sheepish voice. I growl and flop back into bed, pulling the covers over my head once more. "Go away!" I yell as I try to go back to sleep. I hear his sigh then his footsteps as he walks away.

I lay there for several minutes, tossing and turning and cursing at Zidane for waking me two hours after I went to sleep. Finally I sigh, throw the blanket back and get out of bed. I slowly dress, not wanting to be up yet. I curse Zidane one more time as I unlock and open the door. Zidane is leaning against the side of the door as I walk out.

"Sorry about waking you up," he says. I scowl and walk past, heading toward the kitchen. There is a fresh pot of coffee on the stove. I make a cup and sit down. Zidane sits across from me, his hands folded in his lap, his leg moving up and down in quick motions.

"What?" I finally growl.

"Are you mad at me?" he mumbles out pitifully, his head down, his hair covering his eyes. I sigh.

"No, I'm not mad at you. What did you want to tell me about?" I ask. He perks up, his eyes shining.

"You should have gone to the party last night. It was great."

"What happen?" I ask, my smile blocked by my hand.

"I met this girl that I helped out once. We had a great time. She was beautiful and smart and funny. I couldn't believe I met her again after all these years. I wouldn't have recognized her if they hadn't announced her, but I think she remembered me. I wish you could have met-have you always done that?" he asks mid-sentence. I'm taken off guard by the question.

"Done what?"

"Play with your ear like that? Have you always done that?"

I think about it for a second. "I guess I have. Why?"

"Oh...no reasons. Just reminded me of someone. Anyway, this girl, we danced for hours. We didn't stop until the end of the night, and even then, I think we both wanted to keep going. We talked about everything that we have done over years. She became acquainted with this countess, who she's been working for-are your ears pierced?"

I look at him, stunned. "What?" I breathe out.

"Your ears, they look like their pierced. They have little holes in them."

"Oh..." I tug on my ears, thinking of an excuse. "They've always been like that. It's just freckles. Now tell me more about Nekel."

"Well we-what did you say?"

"I said tell me more about..." I stop, panicked as I realize my mistake. "About this girl."

"You said 'Nekel.' I never told you her name." He crosses his arm and stares at me.

"I guess I heard it from one of the other guys," I say absently as I stand to leave.

"I didn't tell anyone else."

"Oh well, I guess I heard it somewhere else." I start walking away.

"You went to the party anyway, didn't you?" he says as he stands, hands on hip, fire in his eyes. "You lied to me because you didn't want to go with me, huh?"

"I...um...Zidane...Yes, I went to the party last night," I finally admit , my mind quickly coming up with a story to tell him. "I went to find you, because...I changed my mind about not going. But I saw you dancing with this girl, and...um...I asked about her. That's how I knew who she was," I stammer out, knowing he's not going to believe me. I wouldn't believe it.

"Oh," is his only comment. "I guess I was just glad to see Nekel I wasn't paying attention to anything else." He pauses for a moment. "I want to see her again, Blank. I made her a promise that I would come back to her."

I remember the promise, but another memory also comes to me; one made long ago when I was a young girl being put on a boat by a young boy. He promised me then that he would come for me, that he would find me one day, but he never did. My blood starts to boil and I clench my fists.

"Didn't you once pro-" I stop myself. Blank would not know of the promise, and I have already messed up too many times this morning.

"What?" he asks.

"Didn't you say you knew her from before?" I ask instead. He gives me an odd look, knowing I wanted to say something else, but he answers my question anyway.

"Yeah, I helped her escape from this guy, he was a Count or something, who was hurting her. He found out what I did and had me imprisoned. I escaped, but I couldn't risk trying to find her. I wanted to." I listened to him, hearing every word, but not truly believing what he had to say. He wanted to look for me, but something kept him from doing it. Then, a light came on and I understood ­ they were chasing him like they were chasing me.

"I never knew. All this time and I thought you had forgotten me..." I whisper.

"What? What do you mean, Blank?" He looks at me, his face filled with confusion. Then he fills in all the gasps, all the small things that I have done over the years that have reminded him of someone else.

"Blank?"

"Hey, guys, the boss wants to see both of you in the rehearsal room," one of the other guys says as he pokes his head through the doorway. I can hear him mumble something about hating it when people fight as he walks away.

I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I will them to stop and close my eyes, hoping Zidane won't notice. He starts to say something, but stops after the first sound leaves his mouth. Then he sighs and turns, walking out of the room. I dry my eyes and go to the sink to splash some water on them, but I'm sure they are red.

"Everyone is waiting for you," I hear Zidane say. I turn but he is gone. I take a deep breath and go to the rehearsal room.

The boss is standing in the back of the room, looking over the script for a new play. Before he starts he puts it down and says, "Some Countess is looking for this girl named Nekel." My heart starts to pump faster. "I thought one of you might know something about her."

"You don't know," Zidane asks. He looks at me. My heart falls into my stomach. He knows who I am now and he could tell everyone. He could tell my secret to these men. I look back at him, pleading that he not, almost begging with eyes that he keep my secret at least until we can talk.

"Know what?" Zidane keeps his gaze on me for a second more before turning to the boss.

"Nekel and I were friends when we were younger. I saw her at the party, but I don't know where she went. I don't even know where she is staying." he answers, his gaze steady on the boss. The boss nods and continues looking at the script.

"We start rehearsal tomorrow. Don't forget your scripts," he says as he points to a stack near me. I grab one and quickly leave. I run to my room, but before I can slam and lock the door, Zidane is there.

"Nekel?" he asks as he holds the door open. I try to shut it on him, but he holds it open. Once again the tears well up in my eyes. I let the door go and sink down onto the floor.

"You're Nekel? For these years you've only been pretending to be Blank, but you're Nekel."

"Yes, I'm Nekel. I'm the girl you rescued all those years ago. I thought you forgot about me, and the Count was after me, so I hid. I didn't know I would find you," I sob.

"He doesn't know."

"Of course not. I never planned on letting you know." I look up at him.

"Yeah," he says as he looks at the floor. He kicks at the dust, anything to avoid my gaze.

"I'll leave. I can go find Countess Je'Laquetta. She already thinks that I lost my luggage and clothes so I'm sure that she'll help me out. It wouldn't be so bad. I could live with her, have a normal life." The tears are dry, but I feel sick to my stomach.

"Go see this countess," I put my head in my hands, ready to cry hot tears anew, "and tell her that you found your best friend and are staying with him indefinitely."

My head snaps up. "Zidane..." He nods. I smile and scramble to my feet to hug him. "You mean you're not going to tell any one?"

"That's what I mean. But, -" he looks lost at what to call me, so I interject "Blank."

"Blank, you're my best friend. I mean...wellI like you as Nekel and all, but..."

"Zidane, it's okay. I'll always be your best friend. And...I've already made a promise about Nekel. This is my life now, and now I think I can live with it."

Disclaimer: Blank, Zidane, and any other _Final Fantasy IX_ characters are copyrighted by Squaresoft since July 2000. All copyrighted material used here without permission for non-profit uses. If copyright holders wish any thing removed, please e-mail me and it shall be done.. This story, it's ideas and Nekel are copyrighted 10/02 by DDoskocil . 


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